


I Won't Fail You (I'm not afraid)

by ErrantNight



Series: What You Take With You [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode V: Empire Strikes Back
Genre: AU, Gen, Padawan Luke, Sassy artoo, mischevious yoda
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-26 20:17:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6254383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErrantNight/pseuds/ErrantNight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(I'm back!)</p><p>After the attack on the Alliance Base on Hoth, Luke Skywalker heads to Dagobah to find Jedi Master Yoda in hopes of completing his training. This Luke is a bit wiser, a bit kinder, and has already had several years of training under his belt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our Hero travels to seek out Master Yoda, and Artoo is nervous.

Chapter One

If there was one thing Luke Skywalker had needed to learn the hard way, it was patience; it had never come naturally to him, and his master had told him that his father had been the same. It would take nearly a day to get from Hoth to Dagobah, which was quite a lot when you’re in a very small cockpit with only a few emergency supplies available to you and obviously no access to a refresher. There was a solution for that, but as far as he was concerned in a confined space he’d rather see if he could hold it. 

All the rest of his supplies were packed in the smallest possible space beneath and behind the pilot’s seat, accessible only in two situations. The first was to get out of the seat and pull it up, reaching beneath to release the straps holding the cases in place. The second, of course, was to have to pull the ejection switch which would pop the canopy and engage the charge that would launch the seat, and it’s supplies, out into open air.

This, obviously, was not something he had any intention of doing. He sincerely hoped he’d never have to do it again, although it had already happened once before.

He’d also hoped to have a chance speak to the Alliance high command, Leia and perhaps Mon Mothma by preference, and tell them he needed to take some leave to look for Master Yoda. He’d not had much time to plan anything before the sudden battle to evacuate the base, but he’d been uncertain how to explain that he was a Jedi in the first place and then explain how he suddenly knew of a living Jedi Master to teach him. He’d never told anyone, although his Aunt and Uncle and their adopted son, Deak, knew. 

Chewbacca knew as well, because he’d known Jedi during the Clone Wars; Han knew because, even twenty years older and weathered from the Tatooine sun, he had recognized Obi-Wan Kenobi from old holos. Luke hadn’t actually known before then that Obi-Wan had been famous, well at least more famous than other Jedi Generals. Apparently it had been more because of his father being celebrated as the ‘Hero with no Fear’ than anything else. 

Many people in the alliance still didn’t trust Han, just waiting for him to get an offer to betray them he decided not to turn down. But Han was loyal to the people, and the causes, he decided were worthy. The former smuggler liked to use his swagger and charm to seem just barely intelligent enough to dodge CorSec, but Luke knew he’d made it all the way through the Imperial Pilot’s Academy. He’d watched Biggs study for the entrance exams, and it had taken his friend two years of self study and HoloNet classes to catch up to that level of schooling that just wasn’t available on Tatooine otherwise.

He hadn’t intended to take an X-Wing, the Alliance needed every fighter especially now, and he had worried they’d force him to resign his commission at least temporarily. The attack and sudden evacuation had nixed those plans and made a mess of everything.

A pang shot through him, it was so cold to say a mess had been made of things when he’d lost friends in that fight. He’d lost a lot of friends the last three years, sometimes not long after he’d made them. Some people found it easier not to care after a while and stopped being outgoing and trying to make new friends because it hurt too much to lose them. He wondered if that was why Obi-Wan said that the old Jedi eschewed attachments. It did hurt, losing people he cared about, but the thought of having never cared about them in the first place seemed worse. Obi-Wan said that he’d learned that as well, over the years. 

It was easy to be aloof and unattached in a diplomatic situation when you’d not see any of the people involved again. You needed that detachment to be fair, since even being too friendly to someone could be seen as favoritism and damage a sensitive negotiation. But in a war, when you constantly had to rely on those around you, and have them rely on you in turn, sometimes those attachments are the only thing that kept you going.

Now his fingers tapped in the message on the comm, a bit less concerned that he might have been. No one really expected to see him anytime soon, no one would even be meeting at the rendezvous point for at least three months. No one wanted to take a straight route anywhere when someone might be tracked. Still, it felt as though he were abandoning the other Rogues, and he took his responsibilities seriously. He took a lot of things very seriously these days. 

Artoo warbled at him from just behind and above him, pale blue letters scrolling across the HUD, //You’ve spoken of taking time before, with Mon Mothma, Master Luke. To draw some of the bounty hunters and others seeking specifically you away from the fleet.//

“Yeah, I know Artoo, but I was going to get Han to drop me someplace where I could get my own little ship with just me and you and not take any resources from the Alliance. Chewie said he might know someone who could help me, at least sort of. He knew Jedi in the Clone Wars and says there are Jedi in other Rebel cells too. They may be hard to find but they’re out there. He said there are other Force sensitives who aren’t Jedi even.”

//A Jedi Master might help you more.// Artoo’s reply was simple, but if a droid could project anxiety the little astromech was doing so now. 

Luke knew Artoo hadn’t been memory wiped in decades, something he’d only revealed to his new master once he’d argued with a tech that he liked Artoo the way he was and to leave the droid alone. He had backups going back before the Clone Wars even, and hidden programs to make any casual technical checkup show the normal memory wipes and maintenance that most astromechs were subjected to on the regular. It explained a lot of things, particularly Artoo’s robust personality and sense of humor. The droid was as much his friend as Han and Chewie.

“What do you mean?” Luke asked, settling down in his seat more comfortably and watching the blue lines and whorls of hyperspace go by, “Might help?”

//Most human Jedi began the training before the age of four standard, and other sentients at that equivalent for their species. This Jedi Master you seek, might find it much more worrying to take on a half trained student at the age of twenty-two.//

Luke ran a hand over his face, “I’ll just have to do my best to convince him I suppose.” His fingers traced the lines of the fresh scars on his face. He wasn’t particularly worried about his looks, since no one else seemed to care, but it would take some getting used to. Shaving was going to be interesting for a while, that was for certain. 

He let out a breath and took in another, beginning the familiar breathing pattern of the simplest meditation he’d been taught, //I’ll do what I can to help.//

Luke grinned even as he let himself drift in the embrace of the Force, “Thanks buddy.”

*

“Yeah, that’s Dagobah,” Luke said, going over the readout from the scanners. Something about the planet made him uneasy, but there was also a bit of interest there too. Obi-Wan had always told him to trust his feelings, and when he’d let himself do so they hadn’t failed him. Conflicted, that was the right word for how he felt about the planet. On one hand, he had the word of his Master that there was a Jedi there who could teach him everything he didn’t know about the Force. On the other hand, there was something down there that made him want to turn right back around.

“There’s something down there,” he said, softly.

Artoo trilled worriedly, //Do you think it’s safe for us to go down there, Master Luke?//

“I think we’ll be fine, we’ll definitely be careful. I don’t see any signs of a settlement or anything though.” His words were confident but he felt anxiety settle somewhere around the bottom of his stomach.

//A planet with no settlements, with a great many life signs, no obvious place to land, and one Jedi Master to find. Master, are you certain this is a good idea? We could head toward the rendezvous point, or visit Owen and Beru, or any number of other things that would be more productive than wandering around world that seems to be ninety-point-zero-one-seven mud.//

Luke laughed, “You just made the number up, and it won’t be as bad as all that,” he said, then for fairness sake added, “probably. You trust me, I’ll trust the Force, and we’ll get it all worked out in no time buddy.”

//I’ve heard this many times before, Master Luke. Jedi seem quite fond of this method of working things out, and it usually ends up with scratches and dings and grit in my motivator.//

“Don’t be such a pessimist, if all else fails I’ll levitate you everywhere. How’s that?” Luke suggested.

A disgusted blatting sound accompanied the little droids reply, //Fix my rocket jets and you won’t have to.//

Luke sighed, he’d attempted the repair more than once and hadn’t quite managed it. If he’d been able to hit up the right junkyards he might have been able to do it by now. The truth was that Artoo was old for an astromech, although most of the R2 units in use in the Alliance weren’t particularly top of the line new models either. It also didn’t help that they’d been modified by a technical genius and made powerful out of all proportion to the size of the little droid. Most R2s that had the boosters installed could make short flights, for ejection purposes mainly or to assist in getting into the ports when the gear was damaged or there was no time to engage it. Artoo insisted that he could fly quite long distances as well as much higher than any others. 

“Sorry buddy,” he said, angling the ship into the atmosphere, “Han’s got a lead on the parts I need, when we get back maybe he’ll have picked them up on the way.”

Very abruptly Luke had no more concentration for anything but trying to keep control of his descent. The sensors were going crazy, insisting first that crashing into the ground was imminent and then that there was nothing beneath them but open sky. A thick miasma of cloud blocked out any hope of getting visual confirmation of any of the paradoxical readouts. 

He got the distinct impression, from Artoo’s frantic vocalizations, that the little droid would be shouting ‘I told you so’ at him. 

“It’s ok,” he said, trying to reassure himself as much as his companion, “I just have to-” He cut off, gritting his teeth as one foil clipped something that crunched. He hoped it was a branch or something, not actually a piece of his X-Wing making that sound.  
He could feel panic welling up in him at the thought that he’d made a mistake and they’d crash here. They could be hurt, the ship could be irreparably damaged, their comm could go out. Even if the comm didn’t go out, what if whatever electromagnetic disturbance that had fouled up the sensors made it impossible to get a call for help out to his friends? There were so many awful possibilities that he began to feel overwhelmed.

Stop, and think. he told himself, No, a quieter voice murmured, one he’d always trusted, stop thinking.

He shut out the sound of the screaming alarms, acknowledged his fear and that the possibilities were only ‘maybes’ and not ‘inevitabilities’. He released his fear, let it slide away as he’d been taught. He embraced hope, calm, confidence. He would land the ship, they would be safe, and he would make his next decisions after that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of what I'd posted before, another rewritten bit. After this is when it will all be stuff no one has read. Thanks for being patient with this.

Chapter 2

Sitting on the nose of his X-wing Luke ran a cloth over his face and surveyed the clearing around them. He’d managed to set the down in an area that was miraculously not a tree, or a mire, or several feet of water. Beneath his orange flight suit he was soaked to the skin with sweat.

His heart had leapt into his throat after their ungentle touchdown, seeing how very close it had been once he’d come out of his deep meditation. If he’d let his nerves take charge of his muscles, let panic override his calm, they would very likely have crashed. He didn’t think it would have been a catastrophe as his imagination had insisted once they’d begun to have trouble; there was enough ground cover and trees they’d have slowed down enough to avoid serious damage to the ship. Well, at least they’d have avoided having the ship be unflyable anyway. It would have been a hell of a problem though if they'd ended up hanging nose down in a tree or half submerged in water and lodged in mud.

Artoo gave a mournful wail that echoed in the fog shrouded darkness. It wasn’t so much words as a worried vocalization.

“I think it’s night,” Luke said “at least I hope so. If it really is this dark during the day… well we’ll figure something out, right?”

~ Luke, please tell me we aren’t leaving the ship until we know for certain that it isn’t going to get brighter? I don’t want to complain, but I don’t want to disappear into a hole in the ground or sink into mud or be eaten by something with a taste for metal.~ Artoo said, shifting in his slot anxiously.

Luke squirmed into a more or less comfortable position, turning off all but the most essential equipment. He hoped this was the night cycle. It would be a great deal easier if he had to set up some sort of camp if he could use the solar generator instead of relying on his extra fuel cells.

Two spotlights shown out into the trees, reflecting on shifting streams of ist and occasionally glittering points of green or orange light as the local fauna cautiously peeked at the huge interloper in their midst. He considered closing the cockpit but the thought was unpleasant. He was very at home enclosed within the close confines so long as he was in space, something that was hard to explain to anyone who wasn’t a pilot, but on the ground it was almost unbearably claustrophobic.  
~What if Yoda’s on the other side of this carking planet?~ Artoo asked, his soft beeps a little uncertain.

“We’ll figure it out,” Luke said, smiling slightly, “we always do.”

He pulled out the thin survival canopy from it’s place behind his seat and unfolded it, spreading it over the top of the cockpit and snapping it into place. It wouldn’t make it any less hot or muggy but it would keep off most of the condensation beading up and running down the outside of the ship.

*

A small figure watched from the branches of a tree, just outside the range of the powerful lights of the small craft. Jedi Master Yoda watched as the young man settled himself back into the cockpit with a slight groan, then a soft laugh that bounced off the fog banks and dissipated into the night as he continued to speak amiably to his droid. 

“Despite what I’ve told you, you were still expecting something different.” Obi-Wan’s voice was quiet, although he didn’t need to keep his tone to a whisper. Luke wouldn’t hear them from this distance, even if he could reliably hear his old teacher in any case.

“Too old, he would have been,” Yoda admitted, “If train him before, you had not.” The old being’s voice was rough, from disuse as much as the long years of weariness and grief. The very air here weighed him down, after so many years secluded near a place steeped in darkness. His ears raised as another soft laugh and a somewhat sarcastic “Good night to you too,” reached them. 

“Sometimes I wonder if I should have taken him myself, raised him…” Obi-Wan trailed off, contemplating what could have been, “but I think I did the right thing. He has a firm grounding in the galaxy, he knows how to relate to people in a way that it took me until I was years older to be capable of.”

Yoda sighed, it wasn’t a particularly new argument. They’d been having it since before Anakin had been knighted. If the Jedi hadn’t been so isolationist, if they hadn’t been so obsessed with maintaining complete objectivity and eschewing attachments so severely, perhaps many things would have been different. Just what would be different was a matter of debate, and it had been debated for centuries as the Jedi order had evolved and centralized after the Ruusan Reformation. 

“See, we will, what we can make of him,” he conceded. It was more than enough time to seek his own warm bed, and see how the boy reacted to his surroundings in the morning.

It was the sound of something rustling too close to Luke’s head that woke him, but he didn’t make any sudden movements. He paused, listening as something, or someone, rifled through the bags he’d perched on one of the wings of the fighter. A soft voice was humming, muttering something that sounded like nonsense in what might have been Basic. 

He was relieved to see that he had arrived on Dagobah during the night, and it looked as though the sun was just beginning to filter through the mist and trees. It was almost a magical sight, he never got tired of seeing new places, particularly green ones. 

Artoo was still powered down, and he could hear a very faint whir from the astro-droid slot behind him as his friend’s sensors reacted to the movement nearby. He cracked an eye open and twitched his head to the side to get a look at the creature squatting just a few feet away. It pulled out a glow lamp, turned it over and flicked the switch to turn it on. It knew exactly what it was and how to use it, Luke mused, so it must be familiar with modern tech. His scanners hadn’t picked up any settlements, but for all he knew this being and its people had come here to escape the Empire, or were just from an ascetic religious group that shunned most technology. Just because he hadn’t picked up the usual amount of comm equipment, vehicles, or the sort of computers and traffic that would be associated with something like a spaceport it didn’t mean there weren’t ships here that were simply powered down and in storage to hide them.

 

The little being was green, likely all the better to blend into Dagobah’s landscape if this was it’s homeworld, and had little wisps of white hair floated around it’s wrinkled head and face. It’s rough brown robes looked as though they’d been used for quite a long time, worn and ragged at the hems and sleeve cuffs but well cared for for all of that. He could see lines of stitches in thread that wasn’t quite the same color, and places that might have once been stains that had been scrubbed as clean as possible.

It’s tri-dactyl hands were quick and nimble as it pulled things out of the bag and examined them, then tucked them back in and pulled out another. It came up with a ration bar, the crackling of the wrapper as he tore it open gave Luke a good excuse to ‘wake up’ and say something.

“Are you hungry?” Luke asked, voice quiet so as not to startle it. With the beads of dew covering the thin plastine canopy he’d draped over the cockpit, he was certain the surface of the X-Wing must be slick.

The thing squeaked and jumped, but it’s clawed feet scraped on the hull and it kept it’s balance by waving it’s arms about. It peered at him, it’s wrinkled face more curious than afraid, then it smiled at him and he smiled back. 

“It’s alright,” he said, keeping his voice gentle. He wasn’t certain if the being spoke Basic, but a calm tone was easy to understand. Luke motioned toward the ration bar still clutched in its fist, “You can have it, if you want.” 

It sat down abruptly, pulling open the package and gnawing on one corner of it. They weren’t bad, as such things went, but not something anyone would likely eat for pleasure unless they had wretched taste already. The being, Luke was beginning to think of it as male, immediately spat out the mouthful of tasteless food with a disgusted face.

“How did you grow so large, eating food of this kind?” The being, Luke was certain now that it was a ‘he’, grumbled. Luke hid a smile as he levered himself out of the cockpit, forcing down a groan as his aches and bruises protested. The damp did little to alleviate the pain that still lingered from his attack by the Wampa, and he knew the only thing for it would be to move more and not less no matter how much it hurt.

“Well,” he said, “It’s not what I usually eat. I’d probably shrink if I had to survive on that all the time.” Luke was grateful that the being spoke Basic, it would make it easier to find out about this place. If the Force had guided him here, perhaps it had guided this little fellow to him as well. Perhaps he knew Yoda, or could lead him to the Jedi Master.

As he thought this, the being looked up at him sharply, “Wondering I am, why are you here?” Its voice was curiously shrewd, as though it had a good idea of what the answer might be. 

Luke perched on the side of the X-Wing, selecting a ration bar for himself and drawing out a pouch of purified water, then offered a second to his companion who declined, “I came here looking for someone.”

He was interrupted by a chuckle, “Found someone you have, it would seem, eh? Hmm?”

Luke laughed as well, “Ah, yeah,” he said agreeably, “I guess so.” 

He held out a hand, hesitating slightly as he worried the movement might seem threatening or somehow insulting in the being’s culture, but his broad callused palm was gripped in a small taloned hand in return.

“My name’s Luke, what’s yours?” He asked, pausing to take a bite of his own bland breakfast. He was hungry enough that he didn’t even care that the thing was dry as asteroid dust.

“Help you, I will,” he said, without answering the question, “Find your friend, yes?”

~How do you know his is looking for a friend?~ Artoo blatted, causing Luke to start and look over his shoulder at the droid. His head dome spun a half cycle and then back, his photoreceptor pointed at the little being.

“Don’t be rude Artoo,” Luke chided and turned back to the being, who was looking at Artoo with an odd expression. He looked from the being, to Artoo, and back again curiously.

Artoo made a rude noise and shifted with annoyance in his slot. He didn’t know what games the diminutive Jedi Master was playing, and the look he’d given the droid made it clear he was expected to play along. He’d liked Yoda, had been relieved to know he was alive, but had to admit he’d expected something like this. If he were human, he’d have sighed in exasperation. As a compromise he gave a little bloop of dissatisfaction and resigned himself to whatever game the little Master had in mind.

“I’m not looking for a friend, well not a friend yet I guess,” Luke smiled down at the creature, “I’m looking for,” he trailed off suddenly. Just because his new companion was cheerful and friendly, even if Luke thought the best of any people whenever he could, didn’t mean they were friends of the Jedi. Obi-Wan had warned him of that.

“Yoda?” Luke started as a green clawed hand patted him on the knee, “You seek Yoda,” the gruff voice said more confidently.

“Come, come,” the green being smiled back at Luke, showing tiny sharp teeth. He hopped and slid down the wing to drop onto a tree limb, showing he was still spry if obviously a bit stiff, for his age. Luke was fairly certain he was elderly, instead of the wrinkles and white hair being a natural characteristic of his species, “Yes, come with me and take you to him I will!”

Luke scrambled after him, less gracefully than he’d have liked, and skidded down the wing before more carefully lowering himself to the branch and testing his weight. He looked over his shoulder at Artoo who made, not a nervous sound as he’d have expected, but something that sounded forlorn and lonely.

Could he do this? Obviously this being knew Yoda and undoubtedly, so he hoped, knew that Yoda was a Jedi Master. He made a split second decision, reaching out his hand and half closing his eyes. The magnetic locks in the astromech slot popped free, letting him very carefully lift Artoo with the Force.

He set the little droid down on the wide branch for a moment, feeling sweat rolling down his back and sides. He grinned in spite of himself, this was ridiculous, but he didn’t want to leave his friend behind. Who knew how far he needed to go, after all?

He looked toward the small being who waited, more or less patiently, a few limbs away, “Let’s go Artoo, I suppose we’ll go on a small adventure here together.”

~Haven’t I told you I’ve caught C-3P0’s adventure allergies, Luke?~ the little droid said, resigned to his fate.

“It’ll be good for us,” Luke said absently, “I need the practice and I’m sure you’d rather not be stuck out in the rain,” he looked over his shoulder at the droid again, “Which I’m sure is gonna start sooner or later.”

~Just don’t drop me this time, please.~

+++

Artoo raised up on his treads and pointed his photoreceptor through the small window in the side of the hut. Luke had apologized for having to leave him outside in the dripping rain that filtered through the mossy trees after discovering the droid couldn’t fit through the door. At first glance the hut seemed to be made entirely of natural materials. However, Artoo could see bits and pieces here and there that seemed to be made of repurposed starship parts. More accurately, he deduced, parts of an E3-standard starship lifeboat. He and Threepio had made use of one once, and had been increasingly grateful during the nearly four week trip that they were not organic. He had no idea how those things were supposed to seat four medium sized sentients, two if they weren’t bipedal.

Inside, Luke was sitting against a support and staying well out of Yoda’s way as the old trickster puttered around apparently making breakfast. Luke had tried to offer to help cook, which was kind, but would have been a very poor way of thanking anyone for hospitality. Luke Skywalker was not a master of any species’ culinary arts from what he could tell, although growing food was something he was skilled at by all reports from the Alliance’s requisition and hydroponic labor droids. 

Luke watched, bemused, as the being seemed to be making much more of a production out of cooking than what was strictly necessary to prepare a meal even in relatively primitive conditions. There seemed to be some power source about, but it was in use only for vital functions. He recognized a pump to shunt water away and keep the little house from flooding, a filter to purify water, and a heating unit that warmed a small bathing area. 

A red and black banded serpent slithered over his ankle and he froze for a moment, “Are we going to go to Yoda after breakfast, or do you have a way to contact him?” he asked, delicately shifting the reptile off of him with both hands. He thought of levitating toward the door, but then again for all he knew this snake was a pet. Looking around at the space, and noting that it was the only home he’d seen so far on the planet, it might be the little guy’s only friend save for the Jedi.

“Is he far?” he asked, voice softening. How often did he see the Jedi? How often did he see anyone? It definitely explained him latching on to Luke, probably worried Luke would go with Yoda and then leave him alone again. He could be a hermit, preferring to live alone but that didn’t really fit. It was sad to think he was one of the last of his people but it was a possibility.

“Not far, not far,” Yoda chuckled, clattering a pan noisily. Twice he’d tripped over Luke, once striking him hard in the knee with his walking stick. Not once had the boy shown anger, not even frustration or impatience. He swore he could sense Obi-Wan gloating, which was inappropriate for a Jedi Master, and definitely not becoming for an ascended being besides.

“For the Jedi it is time to eat as well,” he scolded, shooing him toward the pot that smelled like it must be done by now, “Root leaf, I cook!”

He’d made the stew especially to get a reaction, but after spending time with young Skywalker he wondered if it would be anything like he’d expected. Not that it wasn’t good food, it was very nutritious, edible for Humans as well as the old Master, he just hadn’t bothered to add any seasoning. Or salt. And he might have overcooked it. That part might have been an accident, since he’d spent a good deal of time pretending to be busy to test the young man’s patience and tripping over him on purpose to test his tolerance.

Therefore he wasn’t surprised when, although he made a face when he thought Yoda couldn’t see, he simply thanked him without comment and seemed ready to eat his whole portion anyway. 

“There,” he jabbed a clawed finger toward a small clay bowl in a niche near the pot, and accepted it as Luke handed it over. He scooped out a handful of the ground seeds and thin shavings of flavorful lurig bark, tossing half into Luke’s bowl and the rest into his own, “better now.” If he didn’t have to eat the stew unflavored, he had no intention of doing so.

They both ate companionably for a moment, Luke’s slightly pained expression lightening as the musty flavor of the vegetable based stew became much more palatable with the addition. 

“Why wish you become Jedi? Hmm?” Yoda asked pointedly, looking hard at him. Artoo gave a very human razzing sound, almost too quietly to hear. Yoda ignored him, they’d have time to catch up and he’d make the droid understand.

Luke didn’t look up, thinking about the question. His first thought was to shrug and say his father had been a Jedi, which had been a bit of a motivation when he was younger. But he’d grown out of that over the years, understanding that he couldn’t base his decisions on what someone he’d never even met had done. 

“To help people,” he mused, “I want to make things more… fair,” he trailed off sheepishly.

“Hmm, fair,” Yoda nodded, scraping the inside of his bowl with his spoon thoughtfully, “Nothing is fair, Hmm?”

“But shouldn’t someone try? I mean, I used to get bullied a lot, that wasn't’ fair. What was even less fair is that no one tried to stop it. I can’t stop everyone from getting hurt, but I can do… well I can do what I *can* do. Right now, the biggest bully in the galaxy is the Empire, a lot of people are being hurt, and if I can do something to help even a handful of people who are suffering then that’s what I want to do.” 

Luke flushed, “Sorry, I do that sometimes, ramble about stuff like that I mean. It’s just important even if people think it’s pointless most o”

“Much compassion in him, like his mother,” Yoda sighed, satisfied.

“My mother? How could you know my mother?” Luke asked, teasing at first, then hesitating.

“I *can* teach him,” Yoda said, sounding hopeful if weary, “Long has it been since a Padawan *I* have had.”

“As I told you,” Obi-Wan’s voice echoed through the small room and Luke jumped slightly, banging his head on the ceiling.

“Ben? Master?” Luke looked sharply at the little being and huffed a sigh that was something like exasperation and something like amusement. 

“Master Yoda?” he asked, setting his empty bowl in his lap. He could almost hear Obi-Wan laughing at him and he wanted to throw something at him, but he either didn’t deign to appear now or he couldn’t. He didn’t know how he’d done it on Hoth, he might not be able to do it all the time.

“Hmm, yes.” Yoda said, succinctly. He sat back and began to finish his meal, lips twisted in a smirk.

“Ah,” Luke raised an eyebrow, “you’re agreeing to train me, then?”

Yoda ate silently, ignoring the question, then thrust his empty bowl towards him, “Dishes, wash them. The path of the Jedi, long and winding it is, and begins with cleaning. Clean heart and mind, best learned by cleaning my home. Your home as my Padawan, it also is,” he said, his voice softening at the last.

Artoo rocked back and forth, glad the charade was over. Leaning toward the window again, he blatted loudly for attention, ~And building something to keep me dry!/ he demanded, /Getting mud out of my motivator is good training too.~


End file.
